Boldness in the Midst of Fear

One emotion I have always struggled with is fear. It was always driving me and my reactions and emotions. 

I can remember being in kindergarten and being so afraid I would miss the bus to go home. I never did. Transitioning from the small elementary school to the multi-level floor middle school caused much anxiety and fear in me. It was a new situation. New situations were always cause for worry, anxiety, and fear. 

As I've aged, and hopefully grown in wisdom, things have grown somewhat easier. Has my fear disappeared? No, new situations still cause me some level of fear and anxiousness. However, I married a man who views life as an adventure to discover. 

He helps me to see the wonder of new things. And how there really is nothing that can't be overcome when its encountered. One doesn't have to know everything that is going to happen before it happens. This is coming from an Eagle Scout who lives by the motto "always be prepared." 

A few years ago we went on a week long trip to Canada for our 20th wedding anniversary. I busily began to plan it all out. His one request was to not plan every single minute of every single day. I wanted to...badly! However, I agreed to his request. We went into our adventure with hotel reservations for the nights we needed them (one thing I insisted on) but only a general idea of what we would do each day. It allowed for adventuring to happen. 

I have a small desk in our bedroom where I do my quiet time. When a verse I'm reading strikes me, I often write it on a post it note so I can see it. I had a verse from Isaiah 41 written down as well as a quote about fear I had read in a book. 

Just recently I noticed my husband had added some more encouragement for me. This is one of many reasons why I adore him. 

Fear doesn't rule my life any longer like it once did. I still do like to know what's happening. I like to have a plan for my day, week, month, life, well, you get the picture. But I'm constantly brought back to the verse I have posted at the top of this post..."For God has not given us a spirit of fear and timidity, but of power, love, and self-discipline." (2 Timothy 1:7 NLT). 

Constancy Day

Sunrise from our hotel room

This past weekend my hubby whisked me away for a romantic weekend together. Our two older boys were gone to a youth group event all weekend. Our youngest went to stay at a friend's house. It was, in a word, heavenly.

I very much enjoy spending time with my hubby. I suppose that's a good thing! This July we will be celebrating 22 years of marriage. This past weekend we celebrated "Constancy Day."

What? You have never heard of that? Well, neither had I until my hubby decided to celebrate it.

Here is what he posted on his Facebook page Sunday morning:

Lisa B...was not always Lisa B.... She was, once upon a time, Lisa G.... She changed her name when she married me in July of 1993. On that day, she was 21 years, 8 months, and 14 days of age.

Today is not our anniversary. But as of today, we have been married 21 years, 8 months, and 14 days. Today marks the day that she has spent half her life as my wife. Today she will be married to me longer than she was not.

I know this is not some traditional celebration or holiday. But to me, this is a special day because this wonderful woman chose to dedicate herself to me for life. Today marks her commitment: she has been a B.... longer than a G.... I know some folks do not feel that a name change at marriage is necessary, and maybe it is not. But to me, this is something special: a sacrifice she made and a sign of her vow. 

I fully appreciate the job Bob and Joyce did raising this woman. But she is a B... through and through. Today I celebrate it with Constancy Day!

And yes, he did the math. He's an engineer after all. He even told me he was going to celebrate this moment months ago but that I would forget he ever mentioned it. He was right.

We had a lovely weekend away and I doubt I'll forget March 1, 2015 any time soon.

{Journal Prompt} Music

Not my piano, but my piano was (is) this color!

This past Friday I went to the "big city." Earlier I mentioned I was studying to become a group fitness instructor and my test was scheduled for Friday afternoon. Mother Nature didn't care though and we had another snowstorm raging outside. While the University I was headed to did not shut down, the testing company was notified they "might" shut down so they cancelled my test. While they did notify me by calling my home phone and emailing me, unfortunately, I didn't know that until I had already driven the hour to the city, did some shopping, and arrived to take my test. The silver lining is I now have another week to study as it's now rescheduled for this coming Friday.

While in the city, I spent a gift card to one of my absolutely favorite places to shop - the bookstore! I started picking up books for my kids - like I tend to do. However, this time I decided to get more books for myself since I was spending my birthday gift card. One little gem I picked up was a journal book with 300 writing prompts in it.

I decided that instead of handwriting them, I would periodically take one and use it to write a blog post. So, welcome to my first installment.

Write about an extracurricular activity you did when you were growing up, and how it affects (or does not affect) your life now. 

I was involved in so much growing up. I was blessed to land in the fourth spot out of five children. By the time I was in high school, my three older siblings were out of the house, my dad worked at a job that allowed for very flexible hours, and my mom went back to work as well. We had time and money for me to do activities and I certainly did plenty.

I think the thing that affected me the most was music. When I was five years old I apparently asked my mother to learn to play the piano. We had a big old-fashioned upright in my parents bedroom. I liked to go in an plink away on it.

The music teacher for our school district also went to our church and was a family friend. She agreed to teach me. I was pretty happy until I realized how hard it was to learn to play! It was like learning a whole new language!

It wasn't long until my teacher realized I wasn't memorizing the notes, but rather using the fingering numbers to play. This worked great until you started playing higher or lower notes. Then it was blatantly obvious. This was not her first time teaching, so she simply switched me to a book without fingerings. I soon begged my mother to let me quit. And she did. I remember hiding in the bathroom the day Mrs. House came and my mom told her I no longer wanted to play.

Fast forward to fifth grade. I'm not sure if it's like this anymore since my boys are homeschooled, but in fifth grade you could play in the band and start learning an instrument. Our family owned a clarinet so that is what all of us played while we were in fifth grade. It always worked out that when a new sibling was coming in to fifth grade, the older one was stopping band.

Miracles of miracles, I learned how to read music and once again began plinking away on the piano. The only issue? I could only read the treble clef (or right hand) notes and none of the bass notes (or left hand notes). I asked my mom if I could take piano lessons again. She agreed but I had to call Mrs. House and ask.

I was in seventh or eighth grade when this happened. She only had openings for me in the summertime so that is when I took lessons. I was in high school (and probably had showed her I was serious about learning) before she took me on during the school year.

I also continued to play the clarinet in the band. I quit my seventh grade year which actually worked out well. That's when my little sister was in fifth grade so she had a chance to learn to play the clarinet. She decided not to continue though and I went back to it my eighth grade year and continued playing all the way through high school.

My sophomore year I played the trombone for one season of basketball. Our pep band for basketball games was sorely lacking so myself and two friends volunteered to learn enough to play the songs. My arms just simply aren't long enough to hit that last slide position though! I was very happy when the new freshman arrived the next year and had three trombone players among them!

This was probably 1989. 

I'm on the far right almost off the photo.

This was actually chorus but many of us played in band too.

And yes, I also sang in the chorus. I started in fifth grade and went all the way through high school. It wasn't until about 7-8 years ago that I started singing in public again. I've always sung in my car. Just ask my boys. I joined the worship team at my church and soon after that I started singing solos, something I never did in high school.

So how has this affected my life? One is the regret that I didn't continue with music after high school. It wasn't until I had children of my own that I even started thinking again about playing.

When all my boys were old enough, I started them on learning how to play the piano. I found a wonderful homeschool young lady who was willing to take on all four of us. That's right, I started lessons once again. 

My family after my first ever recital.

June 2011

My boys were so little here! My youngest (white shirt in the front) was only seven! My middle son (glasses) was ten and my oldest was 14. My oldest and I took lessons for about 2-1/2 years. I simply lost the time necessary to practice and had refreshed my memory enough to do what I wished - play well enough that I could play on our worship team. I knew I would never be a concert pianist. 

My oldest son, while talented, did not enjoy lessons. Since he was so much older when we started, I allowed him to stop playing. However, my other two boys are still playing and have since added more instruments. My youngest son added the violin this past fall and my middle kiddo just added the drums. No worries though, we're starting out with just a practice pad. My hearing is still intact - for now.

Music enriches my life. It relieves stress. It helps me worship God. I feel incomplete without it. Music has had a profound impact on my life and for that I am very grateful.

Writing Update

No fancy title this go round. Just a confession and an update. At the beginning of November I had committed to not only writing a book as part of National Novel Writing Month, but also to blog every day of November as well. Sadly, I met neither goal this year.

I did about 9,000 words for NaNoWriMo, although I started one book and wrote about 2,500 words and then decided I didn't like the theme. So I started a second book and managed about 6,500 words in that one.

My issue this year with NaNoWriMo is that I didn't make it a priority like I had the previous year. I find that as much as I want to write while I'm at home, it just doesn't happen or at least not in any great quantity. The majority of my words written were when I took my laptop and went to various places and sat and wrote for an hour or so. Last year I did that often. This year I did it twice and it showed in my word count. 

I also realized that I like to write so I'm going to work on making it more of a priority this coming year. I still have last year's book to edit and I kind of like the book I started this year so I'd like to finish that one up and see where it goes. I suppose I'm also looking ahead a bit to try to figure out what I want to do when my kids are grown in gone. I have less than 10 years before my youngest will be heading off to college. Yikes!

I managed a blog post every day for the first week. I tried to jump back in but quickly fizzled out. I don't know why November felt so busy, December is shaping up to be even busier, but it was enough to keep me off-line more than I would have wanted. Although, I do suppose it was a good thing in the end. 

I have some movie reviews upcoming. I also need to get life posts caught up. My boys just finished a production of A Christmas Carol that was awesome, they are wrapping up swim lessons, and we are trying to navigate college plans for my oldest. Needless to say, lots to talk about!

National Diabetes Month

So...November apparently is "National Diabetes Month" so I thought I'd give everyone a bit of insight in to what it's like to live as a Type 1 - insulin dependent diabetic. I was first diagnosed with this disease 13 years ago just after I had my second son.

First off, as a Type 1 diabetic, my body does NOT make insulin so no diet I go on will ever change that fact that I need insulin. It will, however, lessen some of my need for it. That's why I really like the Trim Healthy Mama way of eating. It's very diabetes friendly and I've been able to see a huge improvement in my blood sugar numbers. I still have a little way to go, but they are the best they have been in the last 13 years.

That's also why I opted to get my tattoo a couple years ago. I should wear a medical alert bracelet and did for the first few years, but when my original one broke, I couldn't find a replacement one I liked so I decided to just go permanent. That is also why I wear an insulin pump - 24/7 with very little breaks. I can only take it off for an hour to shower or swim. Other than that, it's on me. This is a vast improvement though from the 4-5 shots (or more) that I would have to give myself every day. My pump also gives me much more flexibility in when I eat and exercise.

Exercise makes your body use what insulin you have more effectively. Since I always have insulin running (it's called a basal rate), by wearing a pump I can turn this rate down so I don't have a low sugar during or after working out. Since I work out four times a week, this is really helpful for me.

It's also important to realize that Type 1 diabetics could eat the same thing every single day and something would go wrong and blood sugar affected. For example, just today I experienced one of the worse reactions to a high blood sugar that I have ever had in my 13 years as a T1.

A normal range of blood sugar is 70-100 for most people. Typically diabetics are allowed to go a tad bit higher to 120, but that's really the max.

My pump was getting low on insulin this morning. It alarms when I have less than 15 units left. That will typically last me a couple of hours. Since we were heading out to church and I didn't want the alarm to keep going off, I knew I needed to change the setting and add insulin.

When I say setting or "infusion set" this is what I mean:

Not my body.

I wear this exact same style of infusion set. It's placed with a large needle that is removed once placed. There is a plastic "needle" or cannula left behind through which my pump infuses insulin - much like a small IV. The section being held in the hand above is the part that can be removed. It's attached to the tubing which is attached to the reservoir that holds my insulin inside my pump. There is a motor inside that works to push the insulin through the tubing, kind of like an electric syringe. However, I did change everything out just before leaving for church. And that's when things went wonky.

Our church does somewhat of an "intermission" after worship songs. Children in grades preK-8 have Sunday School during the service so this is when they all leave, people can use the restroom, and do any last minute things that need doing before the sermon begins. I felt "off" and could tell I had some lactic acid building up in my system. This meant all the sugar in my system had no where to go. It couldn't get in to the cells and was building up in my blood stream. Ketones were forming which are never a good thing for a diabetic! I decided to test and my sugar was over 500 at that point. So I took a correction bolus and settled in to listen to our pastor.

However, within a half hour I could tell things were getting worse. The lactic acid was awful. I knew the longer I sat, the worse it would get, but I also wasn't even sure I could make it to the bathroom to test my sugar. I finally decided I really had no choice. I grabbed my meter and stood up. My legs were so stiff as I walked to the bathroom  that they weren't moving like they should at all.

Again I tested my sugar and it was still over 500. I once more took a bolus of insulin but at this point had figured out that something was not working with the new set I had placed that morning. I most likely hit a pocket of scar tissue which means my body wasn't absorbing the insulin like it should. I don't typically carry insulin or supplies with me on day-to-day outings except for my testing meter. I only carry backup supplies if I'm going to be gone overnight anywhere. So, I had no way to fix this until I went home and thankfully church would be wrapping up in the next 15-20 minutes. The walk helped move some of the lactic acid so my legs at least were working somewhat properly when I headed back to my seat.

As soon as I got home from church, I gave myself another correction bolus, but this time, I gave it with a needle so I knew it went in. I then changed out my entire setting again - tossing this new one since I can't reuse it once it's been inserted. This really hurts because my insurance company does not cover my pump supplies. They cover my insulin and test strips, but I pay out of pocket for the infusion sets. Even my pump is out of warranty, but still working. This means if it does break, I need to purchase a new one. They run at least $5,000 and up which means I can't afford to replace it so I hope it continues to work until we have insurance that will once more cover it. My pump was purchased when we did have insurance that covered such things. And no, none of this has to do with existing conditions and Obamacare. This all happened years before.

I skipped lunch and finally had just some pepperoni sticks around 2pm (pure protein so it wouldn't affect my blood sugar but would quiet my hungry tummy). By 4:30pm my sugar was down to about 176 and I felt it safe to finally eat something with carbs in it with a good bolus to cover. It was obvious that the insulin I had injected was slowly working to bring down my sugar levels.

I did have a pity party because living with diabetes just, well, it just sucks. There's no polite way of saying it. Every day I have to think about blood sugar, carb counts, exercise, etc - all things that affect my sugar and it can be very overwhelming at times. Then I think about how overwhelming it is to me - an adult - and think of all the families who deal with this insidious disease with their children.

So the next time someone tells you they have diabetes, refrain from thinking it's because they are overweight or eat too much sugar. All those things could be true, but those aren't the cause of everyone who has this disease. In fact, it's thought that mine was caused by a virus. So refrain from giving advice unless they ask. More often than not, we're just doing the best we can with it.

Now I'm off to eat a snack because three hours after I had my meal, I'm now low (62) and thus begins the lovely yo-yo'ing affect of high and low blood sugars. Just for once, I wish mine would stay normal no matter what.

Fall Ladies Retreat

This past weekend I had the opportunity to attend the fall Ladies Retreat hosted by our church. We've only been attending Fayette Baptist Church faithfully for the last nine  months. It took us quite a bit of time to settle in to a new church when we moved two years ago. FBC is starting to feel like home. 

The Ladies Retreat theme was One Thousand Gifts based on the book of the same title by Ann Voskamp. I hadn't realized that Ann had come out with a video study based on the book. There are five sessions to the video study. Each are about 25 minutes long. We would watch a segment and then broke in to small groups to discuss using questions from the study guide that can be purchased separately. 

I have to admit that I have owned the book since it was first released in 2010. I had to search a bit but found it tucked away in a draw of my nightstand. I had barely even made it past page 10 in the book. I've also been a follower of Ann's blog - A Holy Experience - for many years and we even used her geography curriculum in our homeschool (A Child's Geography: Explore His Earth and A Child's Geography: Explore the Holy Land).

I was originally suppose to be out of state this past weekend and was a bit bummed I was going to miss the retreat. However, my plans ended up changing due to some schedule conflicts so I was able to attend the retreat. I'm so glad I was able to go. I really needed the time away to recharge and refocus. 

We created gratitude journals during the day on Saturday. These are altered composition books. I used to do this quite often in the heyday of scrapbooking and had forgotten just how much I enjoy doing crafts like this. 

I'm now using my new blessings journal to record three things that bless me every day. I encourage you all to keep a similar record - online or on paper. When we focus on all the good things we have rather than the negative things, our focus begins to change to seeing all the positive things we have in our lives. Oftentimes I think we tend to focus on all we don't have, all the things that are wrong, all the difficulties we face rather than all the small ways that God blesses us everyday. My goal is to focus more on those small blessings every day so that my focus is turned upward rather than inward.

Before and After

For the last five years I have been growing out my hair. Okay, maybe not quite that long, but close to it. It was the longest I've had my hair in a really long time. In fact, my younger boys haven't really seen me with shorter hair or don't remember me with shorter hair.

My hair - just last week - fresh out of the shower.

The ironic thing about this is I did not grow up having long hair. More often than not, I was mistaken for a boy in my childhood because my hair was so short. I was blessed (not...) with baby fine hair which tangles easily. Apparently, I was not the most compliant child when it came time to brush my hair thus the short do.

Me - age 5 - first day of kindergarten

I have been growing up my hair though with the intent of donating it. I've actually done this a few times in the past. It just takes me a really long time to grow out my hair. In the last ten years, I've done so twice. Today was my third time.

I walked in knowing I was going to have it cut but thinking only about eight inches. Pantene takes this length (it's the shortest length I've found among all the organizations who do this) for their Beautiful Lengths program.

I'm awful at figuring out how long my hair really was and how much I could cut off without sacrificing the ability to pull it in to a ponytail for workouts and such. My fine hair gets very fly-away and static-y so I like to be able to pull it up. In fact, I rarely wore my hair down at all in the last five years. It was always up - in a ponytail or a bun. Always.

Today I had a twelve inch ponytail cut off. A FOOT OF HAIR! I knew it was long, but that just blew me away. I have some split ends at the bottom so it's going to be more like ten inches of usable hair - going to women who need a wig after cancer treatment.

Today - minus twelve inches of hair.

Every time I donate my hair to causes like this, I think of my mom. She died from a complication (infection) while going through cancer treatment. She wasn't far enough in to her treatments to have lost her hair yet, but there are so many - just like her - who have lost their hair. I'm glad I'm able to do this.

A Historical Day

Yesterday was Christmas, in case you were living on a deserted island and had lost track of the days and just got back. I mention this because it was somewhat of a historical day here at the Berry Patch. As anyone who hasn't been living on a deserted island will know...we live in a very technology driven society. This (gasp!) wasn't always the case.

(Putting on my best grandma-sounding voice)...Back when I was a little girl we didn't have things like personal computers. No sirree, any computer back in those days would fill an entire room and use something called binary code to talk to each other. Since it was all just gibberish, I mean numbers, it didn't mean much to the average person like me.

Fast forward to my senior year of high school back in (cough) 1990. I took a "computer appreciation" class where we learned, among other things, how to boot up a computer. They each needed their own boot disk and you couldn't use the same one for each computer. Same thing was still happening when I was in college.

circa 1990

Once I left college, I only used computers at work. I didn't own one at home. However, in the intervening years boot disks were now obsolete since computers were becoming more powerful. When hubby and I were married we had hoped to buy a personal computer. We were eyeing a 486 processor!

Fast forward once more. My hubby is now working at a large engineering company. When they replaced computers, they would raffle the old ones off to the employees. We finally had a home computer. It looked very similar to the one pictured above. We didn't get on the Internet, but used it to play games and do word processing. At the time I was working as a medical transcriptionist and I was able to work from home two mornings a week while my son was in preschool. I loved having a computer.

When son number two came along, I chose to stay home and we sold our home so I could do that. We now had some extra money on hand and purchased our very first brand new computer that would also allow for Internet access at home. I even remember the day simply because it was 9/10/01. I also found out I was a Type 1 diabetic that day.

That computer lasted us for quite some time. I even used it to do a couple different transcription jobs from home. It was quite a routine change from going to working full-time and using a day care (my oldest was in day care from the time he was 10 months old until he was 4-1/2 years old) to being a stay-at-home mom. I quickly discovered Yahoo Groups and made many long lasting friends there. Yes, people I eventually ended up meeting in-real-life and still stay in contact with even!

I continued using the Gateway we purchased in 2001 well into 2009 or 2010. It was beginning to show it's age and I started having a lot of issues with it. I ended up using my hubby's laptop for my main computer for a short time, but it was almost as old as the Gateway. Soon though, a friend of mine was upgrading some computers at their home and gifted me with one.

I'm not sure of the actual time frame, but I think it was 3-4 years ago that it occurred. That Dell has been doing well, but lately, it's had some issues. Even with keeping most of my photos (I only keep six months on my computer) on an external hard drive and running scans constantly, it runs slower than molasses more often than not. I've been getting the "blue screen of death" more often as well and it just seems to be on its last legs.

I was able to purchase an equally ancient (so my brother told me) laptop for a song about a year ago and I would use that from time to time. It would run faster simply because I didn't have a lot of stuff on it.

For the last four years, I've jokingly asked my hubby for a new laptop for Christmas or my birthday (which arrives three weeks before Christmas). This year though, that's exactly what I got!

I'm now the proud owner of a new HP Pavilion. I'm trying to figure out how to use Windows 8...any tips? I have been using Windows XP for the last 10 year I think. I'm spent a bit of time yesterday morning reading and watching tutorials. I need to move files from my old computer to this one. And I couldn't be happier. I love how quickly it boots up and how the keys feel under my fingers. It is not a touch screen as I had asked for one with a larger screen and it was either that or the touch screen. Since I watch a lot of videos and do a lot of photo work on the computer, my hubby rightly thought I'd prefer the larger screen.

We are now trying to figure out what to do with my old computer and laptop. I know the desktop will become the "school" computer, but it needs to find a new home somewhere on the main floor so that I can have my computer desk back for my new laptop. I may try to add a small table in our den and move it there. I think the younger boys will appreciate this. It will allow them more access to play as well because this new laptop is all mine! I'm not going to be a good sharer with it at all.

Yikes!

It appears I have become one of those bloggers - you know - the ones who start out strong and slowly fade away into nothingness? Yeah. That's me. I could list all my excuses for not keeping this piece of my world updated. I know my mother-in-law would appreciate it if could get back in the swing of it.

Since I last posted we have:

• Visited the Rangeley Logging Museum which was one of the best field trips we've taken
• Started a bi-monthly Spanish class
• Traveled to New York for my brother-in-law's wedding
• Did one of our bi-monthly art classes in Carabassett Valley - made masks
• Continued with our bi-monthly homeschool co-op
• Started a bi-monthly drawing/sketching class
• Started a new 4H club (we've had a demo and a meeting) about geocaching
• My youngest son took his first belt test in martial arts and passed
• He also participated in his first tournament - it was a huge learning experience for all of us
• I started back to taking Zumba 2-3 times a week. I'm really looking forward to the 2 hour session coming up Friday night.
• Attended a play based on Shakespeare's Twelfth Night
• Did an art class on pottery and another one making wire hanging sculptures plus glazing the pottery just made. I may or may not have chanted "Think Christmas" while the boys were making a gazillion more pieces of pottery. 
• Spent a very long day in the southern part of our state and just across the border in New Hampshire doing two great field trips on history. We went to Strawberry Banke in Portsmouth, NH (fantastic!) and Old York Village in, well, York, ME. They are only 20 minutes apart. I highly recommend going.
• And lastly, I've been spending more of my free time this month participating in the National Novel Writing Month - yup - I'm writing a rough draft of a novel. I need 50,000 words by November 30th and I'm almost to 30,000. 

I'm hoping December slows down just a bit. Then I can add photos and words here if I have any left after my book is done. 

I Got Inked

I have wanted a tattoo for a very long time....at least 20 years. I've had the opportunity at times to get one, but my husband really didn't want me to do it so I didn't. However, the desire never really went away.

In fact just this past summer I was talking with a friend about it. She had been working at loosing weight and had been very successful. She was closing in on 50 pounds lost and told me she was going to get a tattoo once she reached that goal. She had it all picked it out.

We were in the midst of a long drive so we started designing one for me. My life verse is Jeremiah 29:11 so we were working something up to incorporate that verse.

As is usually the case, life and finances delayed our appointment until the end of last month.

At the end of last month we finally made it to the tattoo parlor. Needless to say, I felt vastly out of my element. A tattoo parlor is not a spot I typically hang out.

My friend opted to go first. 

And yes, it does hurt, but she wasn't screaming. Honest.

She said if she had to watch me get one, she'd probably bail. It took about an hour for her to get inked. She went with the Greek word "logos" on her forearm in Greek. It means "The Word" as in Jesus is The Word.

After much thought I ended up going with a medical tattoo on my forearm. 

I was diagnosed with diabetes when I was pregnant with my second son 12 years ago. Five months after he was born, I was told I had Type I diabetes. Many folks here the word "diabetes" and look at me and assume I have Type II so let me explain the difference.

The majority of diabetics are Type II or non-insulin dependent. This means they make insulin but for various reasons their body doesn't use it correctly. It can be controlled through diet, exercise, oral pills, and, in extreme cases, insulin. Type I diabetics do not make insulin at all. They can also be called insulin dependent.

My doctor explained it to me this way....cells need sugar for energy but they have locked doors. Insulin is the key to the door. Type II diabetics make the keys but they are the wrong kind for many of the doors. Type I diabetics simply don't make keys.

Most Type I diabetics are diagnosed as children. I happened to be 28 when I was diagnosed. Many adults actually do develop Type I like me. The medical field calls it "latent onset." I do require insulin and I actually wear an insulin pump 24/7. It saves me from the 4-5 shots a day I used to take.

So what does this all have to do with my tattoo? I am suppose to wear a medical id bracelet but in the last few years I have not been great about that. Now I don't have to worry about it. 

And yes, as I said, it hurts so if anyone has ever told you it doesn't, they lie.

It wasn't as bad as labor, but at times it was close

I have it inked on my left forearm. It's healed without issue and, while I am still getting used to seeing it, I do like it.

It's been about a month since I had this done. I took this photo tonight. There's just one very small scab left near one of the snakes. It took two hours to have this placed. And it hurt like the dickens. The circular areas were the worst. The straight edges weren't too bad at all, but those circles. 

Now that I have first-hand knowledge, I'm not sure I'll end up getting my Jeremiah 29:11 tattoo done, but then again, it could be a lot like having kids. The memory of the pain lessens with time and you end up wanting another child. I'll give it a few years before I decide if I want another tattoo or not. For now, I'm happy with the one I have.

2013 Project

I have always loved photos. However, it wasn't until I was in my mid-20s that I became a professed shutterbug. It might have had something to do with the children I began having.

I've also loved family history. Well, don't ask my Aunt that. I vividly remember the time my cousin and I were "kidnapped" by my Aunt (his mom) and my Mom (his aunt) and made to drive around their hometown. At the time I thought it was torture, but now I would drink it up.

This leads up to the project I'm currently working on. One that has been "in the works" so to speak for about ten years.

I'm scanning the family sides and creating digital photos of each one.

Let me back up just a bit.

At least ten years ago, probably more like 12-13, my mom gave me a huge tote full of all the family slides. I had offered to organize them and get them digitized. At the time I had a flat-bed scanner that would do that. I also had a five year, a newborn, and I had just started staying home after working full-time. Oh, and I was also begin our homeschool journey. The project continued to get pushed to the background of my life.

I did successfully organize all of them into binders. I bought plastic slide holders and sorted each and everyone of them. And I counted them. There are over 1000 slides there. However, the binders were regulated back to the tote and began traveling with us.

In one of the moves I lost the power cord for my scanner. I managed to buy a replacement cord off eBay. Then I realized that in all of our moves, my scanner was broken. There was a lock button on the back. I found out it should have been in the 'on' position.

So again, the project was regulated to the back burner.

Than my mom died four years ago and suddenly it became more pressing. Obviously not enough for me to do something about it then but I began looking at other options. I found a very inexpensive slide scanner on Amazon. (The link takes you to one similar to what I'm using, but they no longer carry the exact model. It is not an affiliate link.) I bought it, but still didn't quite find the time to sit down and began.

However, in the last few months my Dad has really wanted to get his slides back so I am making it my top priority at the moment. His birthday is at the end of the month and my younger sister will most likely go visit him. My goal is to have all the slides scanned and boxed up for her to take to him. I'm also hoping to have a DVD of them all for him. He used to love having slide shows - I remember them fondly as a kid - so a DVD will allow him a "modern day slideshow."

While the word can be a bit tedious - I can only scan three at a time - it's been so much fun finding all the gems in there.

My paternal grandfather died before I was born and I've only seen a handful of photos of him. However, in the slides I've been scanning were close to 200 from my Dad's side of the family that I had never seen before (nor my siblings). They were never part of our family slide shows. There are some neat ones like the one below of my grandfather.

As for my older siblings, they are certainly happy as most of their baby photos were taken as slides. I have scanned close to 300 photos of my oldest brother so far! My older sister also has quite a few and then the numbers begin to dwindle dramatically! However, by the time I came along, it was starting to become more common to have actual prints made rather than slides.

And the quality is sometimes not there, but then again, these slides have been sitting in storage for over 30 years between the time they were taken until now. While there is some damage (you can see it at the top of the photo above) and sometimes the colors don't come through accurately (you can see the difference in the two photos below - taken on the same day), the memories behind them are precious and I'm very thankful we have the technology now to save it.

 

In case you are wondering, I'm the little girl in the blue jumper. 

I've scanned 700+ slides so far and have probably 500 or so left to do. I'm glad I'm able to get these done. I'll be moving on to photos when I'm done with the slides. So many family memories.

2013 Word

For the last four years I have picked a "Word For the Year." It's been something that spoke to me, helped to keep my focus, or something that "spoke" to me in some way.

The first year I did this was the year after my mom died. She was already sick at the time, but we still had no idea what was wrong or that should would not survive 2009. The word I picked that year was "Family."

Loosing my mom was hard and 2009 was a rough year. I started 2010 with the word "Hope." I also used my favorite verse as a focus - Jeremiah 29:11.

I'm not sure I blogged about my 2011 Word of the Year, but it was "Joy." And I don't recall choosing one for last year. However, this year, I have been contemplating this yet again.

I have been looking at resolutions or rather "projects" I want to complete in 2013. One that topped my list was getting my parents slides digitized. I've been able to scan over 300 slides in the last two days and my goal is to have this project completed by the end of the month. I'd like to give these back to my Dad, along with a DVD of them all, as a birthday present.

I have more, but a lot are redundant....get healthy, exercise more, drink less soda, drink more water...the typical ones for this year. I may share my "projects" in another post. I think I'll need some accountability!

However, my word for the year found me last night while I was driving home from the city.

Redeemed.

The dictionary defines the root word, redeem, as "to buy or pay off; clear by payment." Jesus did just that with His death....redeemed our sin-filled lives. It is summed us nicely in 1 Peter 1:18-21:

For you know that it was not with perishable 

things such as silver or gold that you were 

redeemed from the empty way of life

handed down to you from your ancestors, 

but with the previous blood

of Christ, a lamb without blemish or defect. 

He was chosen before the 

creation of the world, but was revealed 

in these last times for your sake.  

Through him you believe in God, who raised

him from the dead and glorified him, and so your 

faith and hope are in God. (NIV)

I have been listening to Big Daddy Weave's song on the radio for a few months now, but last night it really hit me and I decided that this year, I will be redeemed. I will truly trust God. Many of us struggle with past choices and events that have occurred. We all have things we wish we had done differently. This is the year I will set those things aside and truly live out a redeemed life as the daughter of the King.

Our House Story

I promised to share the story behind the house. The one pictured above? Yeah, that house. Tomorrow morning my hubby & I will sign the papers to purchase it. We move in next week. However, I need to back up a bit to give this story it's full due, so you may want to put your feet up and grab a cup of coffee or tea. It may take a few extra words to do this story justice.

July 17, 1993

Hubby & I with my maternal grandparents

Way back in 1993 when hubs & I were mere babes and decided to get married, we simply jumped in with both feet. As young people are want to do....we figured it would all work out...somehow and we were in love and that was all that mattered. Yeah. I know. 

We never had any talks about if I would stay home with the kids or, even for that matter, how many kids we wanted! It was only nine months from the time we first met until the above photo was taken and we said "I do....until death do us part." Needless to say we had a lot of hard learning to get through. 

But we did it. And it was hard. But that's another story....

When our first kiddo was just shy of three years old, we bought our first house. Our dream house. The one where I told him he would have to use dynamite to get me out of it. We had been married six years at that point and had moved at least that many times. 

circa 1997

Our new home was 4000 square feet - including the full basement. It had five bedrooms and five bathrooms. It was in the country. We had about four acres of land. It was huge and we loved it. Just the three of us.

At the time we were both working full-time and our young son was going to daycare. That was the only way we could afford that big house - two incomes. For some reason I never questioned that. I was raised by a stay-at-home mom. My mom didn't go back to work out of the home until I was in high school. She stayed home twenty-five years to raise her five children. But for some reason, I never thought that this was an option for me. I went to college to get a degree and entered my career simply assuming that was were I would always be. 

Thankfully God intervened.

I was about six months pregnant with child #2 when I heard God clearly saying to me..."Stay home and raise these children." Unbeknownst to me at the time, he had also placed this on my hubby's heart. So we began talking about what we would need to do to make this happen and both came to the same conclusion.

Our dream home - the one we had been living in for only 18 months at that point - would have to be sold.

And I was completely okay with moving again which is how I knew this was from God.

One Monday in April we signed the agreement papers to sell our home. We had an extended closing time due to the situation of the couple buying it. On Friday I gave birth to our second son. When he was a mere three months old we moved from that lovely 4000 square foot home to a four room apartment. 

However, this made that sacrifice all worth it.....

My two boys - circa 2001

Our adventures in being frugal and saving began. Our goal was to become debt-free, but it was not one we worked at very hard until three years after moving in to that tiny apartment and adding son #3 to the mix. That is when my hubby found Dave Ramsey and our journey really started.

We made yet another move - what I truly thought would be our next to last move. We moved home. What I mean by that is we bought a trailer and placed in on the family homestead - the property where my hubby grew up. We lived right next to my in-laws and my hubby's grandparents. It was a fantastic place to raise our boys and we all loved it.

The trailer we lived in was suppose to be short term. We thought we'd be there no more than three years and then we would be able to build a house here. We planned to settle here. We never planned to leave. However, it's been eight years and we still live in our 14x70 trailer with three growing boys.

And God had other plans for us - ones we never saw coming, but isn't that God's way?

Just last year my hubby had an opportunity come up that we had not anticipated. His boss was moving on to another job and offered to sell the company to my hubby. Wow and that doesn't even cover all the emotions we felt. In fact, my poor hubby was so overwhelmed by it all he never slept that night. And let's just say that pulling an overnighter in your late 30s is way harder than doing so in your early 20s!

God continued to work the events in our lives and my hubby became the proud owner of his own business in November 2011 (for those who would ask - he is a civil engineer and the company is an engineering/surveying company). We thought God was done. 

He wasn't.

I started to realize that one of my fears of hubby now owning a company was coming true. He was gone a lot. We live 60 minutes one way from where he works. It makes for long days. And when one is in charge of everything, sometimes those days are super long. 

However, our three boys need their dad more than ever now because they keep insisting on growing up. As much as I teach them, I simply can't teach them how to be a man. That's their daddy's job.

Ages 11, 8 & 16 - September 2012

So we began talking about moving - again. However, the benefits began to far outweigh any cons.

And God nudged us along again.

In April I hosted a "sheep shearing party" and lots of friends came to watch, chat, and enjoy the fantastic spring weather. During the course of the day I was talking with a friend about how we were looking at potentially moving closer to hubs work to cut down on his commute and increase his time with the family. And another friend overheard. And she listened to God's prompting.

Late that afternoon, after most folks had left, I received a call from another homeschooling friend - one I see rarely but always enjoy chatting with - because she lives an hour away.

It turns out God was working in their lives too.

She explained why she was calling...they wanted to sell their house. Well, they didn't really want to but felt God's prompting to do so. She had heard we were looking to move to that area and proceeded to give me the run down on the home. Oh.my.gosh. The house seems to have been made for us. 

I listened to all she had to say and wrote furiously trying to jot down all the important things....

• four bedrooms
• three bathrooms
• 2200 square feet
• a full walk-out basement
• central air conditioning (which is proof God truly cares for all the little things a person wants - I hate heat!)
• all located on 146 acres (and this is not a typo) just a mere ten minutes from hubby's office

It seemed to good to be true but I assured her I was at least interested and I would talk to my hubby. I fully expected him to say there was no way we could do this, but he began to research it. And we realized we could do it.

But let me share a bit more of the back story....

Our friends were indeed selling due to God's urging. They have been feeling called to missions. Not just any type of missions, but a traveling missions where they would need to live in a RV - with their four young children ages 2-11. However, her hubby has a great job with the government (wildlife biologist) and loved his work.

So he began to pray..."Lord, is this if your will, make me hate my job." And the Lord answered him. Within a few months of praying this, his job changed enough so that he no longer enjoyed it.

However, just to be sure he prayed this..."Lord, if this is your will, eliminate my position." And the Lord answered. As of October 1st, his job is gone. They are being relocated to North Carolina.

There is more to their story, but it's their story to tell and not mine. But if you think of it, please pray for them as they have many obstacles to overcome to eventually get to the mission field as well as moving their family from Maine to North Carolina this weekend!

God continued to make a way for both families. We managed to complete the sale of the home without real estate agents and good relations still intact between us. In fact, we have enjoyed many evenings visiting while we worked out the details. In fact, my hubby remarked that the only sad thing about this whole process is that we are just getting to know them so well and they are moving! We have a lot in common and would have enjoyed spending time together.

The entire situation is still extremely surreal to me. Even though I am now surrounded by empty bookshelves and full boxes I know without a doubt that this is where God wants us to be.

I, for one, am excited to see what is in store for our family in the coming years as we enjoy our new home and, most importantly, the extra time as a family.

Happy Birthday...

Today would have been my mom's 68th birthday. Sadly she passed away almost three years ago. That anniversary is coming up in March. I miss my mom every single day. I spend time thinking about "what ifs" in regards to her medical care. I just wish she was here supporting me, nagging me, being proud of me. I just miss her.

Last week I traveled back to my childhood home to retrieve some boxes of my things my Dad had found. It's been a long memory filled week for me.

On Monday my hubby and FIL and my boys and I all traveled back to my Dad's house for the last time to retrieve the wood cook stove. I knew it would most likely be my last trip "home." I walked around and took photos of those things I wanted to remember - including the bright red upright piano I learned to play on. Trust me, this is a much better color than the teal anything that stood still was painted one year - my Dad had a lot of extra paint in that color.

I spent most of yesterday going through my boxes. I found all kinds of school treasures, but the biggest treasure was an autograph book I found from 1982. I would have been about ten years old given the date on one note.  Not only did a lot of my school friends sign the book, but I had my family sign it as well - including my grandparents (now deceased), my great-uncle (recently deceased), my mom, my dad and various aunts and cousins. I'm not sure why I had them all sign it, but I'm certainly glad now that I did.

Then finally today is my Mom's birthday. Needless to say it's been a long week of memories. I'm just thankful I know where my Mom is today and that someday soon we'll be reunited.

Romans 8:1-2 Therefore, there is now no condemnation for
those who are in Christ Jesus, 

because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit of life 
set me free from the law of sin and death.

Memories

This stove was the focal point of the home I spent my first 21 years in. My parents bought an old farmhouse in the middle of central Maine over 40 years ago. When they moved in, no one had lived there for ten years. This was in the late 1960s. There was no indoor plumbing of any kind. There was, however, a two-seater outhouse in the barn and a well in the attached shed. Needless to say, plumbing became a priority with three young children and there was soon one bathroom and running water.

However, this stove, along with a wood furnace in the basement, was the only method of heating in the house until I was in high school. In fact, I spent most of my growing up years without running hot water in the warmer months. In the colder months, when the cookstove was being used, there was a water tank attached to the back that allowed for some hot water use. When I was in high school my parents had an oil furnace installed and soon removed the water tank.

Sadly, this stove no longer sits in my parents home.

The third year anniversary of my mom's death is this year. My father has since met someone and is now remarried and living in New Hampshire. He's letting the house go.

I had heard a few weeks ago that my Dad had "sold" the stove to my younger sister's ex-husband. Needless to say none of my siblings and I were pleased with this prospect. A lot of our memories of our mom are tied to this stove. She continued to cook every winter in it. Anyone who ever received a "coffee bread" from my mom - it was cooked in this stove.

After making sure it was okay with all of my siblings, I asked my Dad for the stove. The guy he had sold it to had yet to pay him. So this past weekend, my hubby, FIL, along with myself and my kids headed to my childhood home for the last time to retrieve my mom's stove. And yes, I am paying for it - gladly.

The stove came out of the house in pieces. It was the only time in my life I have ever seen the stove like this.

The stove is in amazing shape. It's now living in a shed at our home until we have a "forever home" for it. We'll cover it in WD-40 to keep it well oiled and free from rust. 

I can't wait to share photos of it once we have a home for it. But that's another whole blog post. Thanks to all of my siblings for trusting to me to take the stove.